Maybe You’re Sure About Me After All, And It Was Just A Means To An End

I shouldn’t admit this

Maybe it’s pathetic or simply too much

Because I’m really good at being too much, aren’t I

But yours was the best damn kiss I’ve ever had

And what kills me is that I bet you can’t say the same

Because you fall differently than I do

And I’ve never fallen for the right or good or, God forbid, the great ones

Which I honestly thought could be you

Or maybe somebody like you

But I like you

You could be right and good and maybe even great, but you don’t want it to be you

You changed your opinion and I still don’t really know why

So I told myself on the drive home to stop smiling, stop smiling, stop smiling

Stop thinking about your eyes looking into mine as you leaned in to me

The mid-conversation interruptions and my voice shaking so slightly

Stop thinking about your hand reaching for mine

Because you’re going to pull away

It won’t last longer than a night

And it didn’t

And I hate that I really think I can just be your friend

Until you say something witty or I catch you smiling mischievously

And my stomach does that fluttering thing again

Or maybe that’s my heart, but I think they’re somehow connected anyway

God I wish whatever it is, it would just control itself for once

But how do I let go of the thing in me that can’t let things go

So all I can think about is reliving that night again

To know what it would be like to stay at your center of attention

To feel that sense of comfort like we don’t know each other well but we will

Because we could have known each other so well

If only you hadn’t stopped asking me real questions, so I guess we’re at a standstill

I just miss believing for a split second

That I could be enough for somebody I want to be enough for

I wish I didn’t care about people as much as I always do

So excuse me if I push you away

I just kind of really like you

And you’re just kind of not sure about me

13 – LANY


I Hoped, And That’s Where I Went Wrong

It’s fine that it turned out this way,

I told myself not to get my hopes up and I’ll be okay,

I know what happens when I do,

It’s not like this is something new.


I wish I would have listened,

I never learned how to listen.


Feelings Fade – Gnash

Better, I Promise

Why do I feel like I’m at the end of a road

That I’m supposed to keep walking on?

The end

Stared back at me for the first time in a long time this morning.

I’m not quite sure why.

I’m not done here yet, I know.

There’s so much left to do.

There has to be so much more to do.


I want to reach out to my friends

To ask for a hand to hold for even a fraction of a second

Just long enough to feel steady again

But I’m not sure they know about the demons in my head

And they might chase them away.


God can save me

So long as I want to be saved.

If there is no more road to walk on

I will pave my own way through mud and gravel.

Everything feels so heavy.

I’m learning how to move on.

I’m trying to keep going, positively, I promise.

And good things come to those who make them happen.


So I will get better.


Voice Of Truth – Casting Crowns


7/21/17: So Much More To Living

Let’s be honest, I’m not happy with who I am. That’s become pretty obvious as of late. For several years actually. Putting appearances aside because that’s a whole other issue, I get in these moods where I hate who I am so much that I would rather stay inside all day, hiding, than have to face people and let anyone see me. Whatever version of myself I can’t seem to help but be in that moment. But I can’t do that. I have jobs to go to, errands to run, friends to keep up with, family to spend time with, fun to have in spite of my emotions, a life to live. I want to hide, I want to disappear completely, but I won’t because I will never allow myself to live in a downward spiral. And when I’m being totally honest, I don’t really want to shut myself away, I just think that that’s what I deserve.

I’ve grown to hate, and yes I mean totally unabashedly hate, my quiet nature; the way I shut down mentally at times. Or a lot of times. I haven’t felt like enough of anything for at least three years. I feel unfortunately incompetent, like no matter how hard I try I just can’t keep up. With anyone, with anything, with God. I expect everyone I meet to leave me, get tired of me, dislike me. I’ve gotten to the point where I am genuinely shocked when somebody continually pursues me and I start to wonder what their motive is. Is it pity? Do they actually enjoy my company? Oh, that’ll change, don’t worry. But I do worry. Constantly.

I wish my brain would shut up sometimes and leave room for thoughts that will make me actually interesting instead. I wish I didn’t think about myself and how I feel as much as I do. The irony, right?

I think about death way too much for someone who’s just dying to live.

I could say, “God, please fix me” but then I’d be missing the point. God isn’t a magical fairy that comes along to fix all our problems and turn us into His perfect little minion robots. At the end of the day, I’m still a human with human problems and emotions. I’m going to have good days and not-so-good days and I will inevitably fail as well as inevitably succeed. It’s human nature with or without the acceptance and acknowledgement of God in our lives.

But damn, I’m going to make things a whole lot easier on myself and choose the option where I get to talk to the actual creator of the world I’m trying to navigate. I’m going to admit that I need saving even if I know I don’t deserve it. If you think prayer doesn’t help, if you think it’s a flat-out sham, you have not been praying fervently enough my friend. Or you’ve been praying with a shitty attitude. Sorry, I’ll behave now.

My point is that I’ll take my chances with the Holy Spirit in me than without it any day. I’m not in a good place right now, but I’m not miserable. Before God, when I got in these funks, I was miserable pretty much 24/7. I didn’t know how to compartmentalize my problems, how to calm myself down and rationalize problems with prayer, how to push bad thoughts away and choose happiness, because I didn’t have much of a reason to. I once told my mom that I wouldn’t want to be alive if I wasn’t living for God because I would no longer have a purpose, and I mean that wholeheartedly.

So did all my problems disappear when I got saved? No. Duh. But my problems became manageable, controlled, and I have a meaningful reason to actually deal with them/face them head on.

I know this is temporary. Yes, this life, but these feelings too. I know I will have days where I don’t really want to be alive, I’ll be honest, but I’m going to have more days where being alive is so worth it because the idea that happiness isn’t a choice is utter bullshit. You want happiness? Talk to God about it and figure out how to get it. Just because it might be harder for some people than others, or it’s harder at certain points in our lives than others, or you don’t feel like you’re skipping and holding hands with Jesus on a rainbow 24/7, doesn’t mean that obtaining overall joy and contentment is impossible. It takes genuine effort. I don’t necessarily fault those who could never figure it out because of course it is more easily said than done; it’s just so sad to watch people fall that it makes me kind of angry.

At the same time, happiness is not everything. The fact of the matter is that there is so much more to life than one fleeting emotion. Does life become meaningless in the moments when you aren’t happy? I used to have that exact mentality until I realized how selfish it is. There are still people to care for, jobs to get done, pets to be looked after, art to be made, parents to be called, school to be attended, books to be read, poetry to be written, beaches to be visited, kids to be taught, cars to be fixed, marathons to be run, companies to be started, charities to be donated to, weddings to be planned, relationships to be formed, love to be given. None of that goes away, none of it becomes irrelevant, none of it becomes inaccessible.

Am I going to ignore the rest of life going on around me just because I don’t always feel up to the challenge? I don’t know, but I shouldn’t. And that’s what I’m trying to get at. Life doesn’t have to stop because you aren’t happy. Truly the only effective and permanent way to learn how navigate life is with God. Simple as that.


I usually only add songs that inspire me to my poetry, but this one is really appropriate so here you go: Scars – Colton Dixon

Quiet, Maybe

An open letter addressed to everyone that has known me, will know me, and knows me currently.

Depending on who you are and which one of these three (or somewhere in-between) states we currently abide in, you will have a different reaction to the following statement: I’m sorry that I can be so damn quiet.

Regardless of the fact that right now you’re probably either planning on telling me that I shouldn’t be sorry or giving me advice on how to be more outgoing, I apologize for my tendency to stare off into space or simply giggle when you say things that aren’t even supposed to be funny. I apologize for the way I look at you with expectant eyes that say, “Please, go on.”

But seriously, please, go on.

If you think that I’m going to use the word introvert at all, you are only correct because I’m using it now to promise you that I will not in fact be using that crutch again, at least for the five minutes it’ll take you to read this. I will not justify my actions and personality with a single word, a categorical box I have fallen so in love with living in that I honestly forgot I never even carved a door to walk out of. But consider this to be my metaphorical box cutter, my knife that doubles as a key except it can’t trap anything inside so it really only works the one way.

Hi. I’m Gabby. Nice to meet you. If we have already met, let me re-introduce myself because it’s about time I let you inside my mind a little bit. This is what you need to know:

I suck at conversation, but only in certain scenarios like when I am visiting someplace new or maybe haven’t been in often enough to comfortably unzip my armor and say, “Hey I’m here, notice me.” I suck when there are too many distractions, unlike your typical I-word (I didn’t use it!) like myself because while typical I-word’s love a good distraction to keep the conversation topics flowing, I always find my favorite words to be waiting behind the eyes of the person sitting in front of me when they are saying something, anything, right to me. I suck when I’m under bright fluorescent lights that feel like the spotlights in my middle school drama class and, oh God, please don’t look at me like you expect me to do something interesting. I mean I can be interesting I promise, but not like this. Just wait. Be patient. Please.

You get it, right? You understand that I’m trying to say I don’t like attention, but that’s wrong too because I’m a girl made of contradictions that confuse me more than they will ever confuse you, trust me.

No, I’m not a girl who hates attention. I’m a girl, a woman, a wannabe human just trying to do the whole human thing like everybody else. Hear me, absolutely. Look at me and see something worth holding on to. But for the love of God, please understand that I thought I was going to grow out of that shy kid phase a long time ago and I am trying to figure out what to do with this weird parasite living in my brain.

I’m slowly evolving into a less shy adult who plays pretend as often as she can. Don’t let her fool you; she lives for convincing people that she’s outgoing. She loves it more when she convinces herself too. She’s learned to do it so well that she kind of thinks she deserves an academy award because damn, I bet you can’t even hear the howling wind erupting from the hurricane in her stomach right now. False extroversion (I didn’t use the I-word!) makes her feel alive temporarily, while that little hurricane reminds her to stay grounded. It’s a decent enough balance on the good days when she feels like putting in all that effort. And it’s a lot of effort.

So yeah, I suck at conversations sometimes. Maybe the clouds weren’t exactly in the right position when I woke up or my hair refused to curl in long messy ringlets just way I like it to; my point is, it just happens. My brain and my mouth have never been on the best of terms, and I can’t always control when they’re in an argument but sometimes they are so perfectly in love with one another that I remember why I wouldn’t want them to exist any other way.

Imagine this:

I come over to your house. You put on music we both like. If I know the words I might kind of sing them, or if I don’t I’ll hum along and pretend that I do. I’ll pet your dog or cat or whatever other animal I hope you have. I’ll flop down on your couch just like I did last week. Or maybe you and I go out to eat at one of our favorite spots, or that new place we’ve been really excited to try. Or maybe you ask me to meet you on our spot at the beach, the little alcove that belongs only to us. At least in our heads. It’s late at night, the moon is reflecting beautifully against the crashing waves just enough to illuminate your eyes so I can look at you when we speak and the black sky wraps around us like a blanket, and I am comfortable.

Remember when I said that I’m made of contradictions? Do you see the irony in loving people and being terrified of speaking to them?

No, not terrified actually, but it’s more like somebody is standing at the doorway of my brain saying, “sorry we’re closed today” but I don’t remembering even hiring that guy in the first place. Where’d he come from anyway? I understand that it’s only a part time position, but come on he’s really getting in the way of the whole “loving people” thing I’m trying to do here. What a jerk.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I am just a person who wants to be a little bit of everything. And I’m just a human who wants you to love me for it, not in spite of it.

So I’m sorry if my quietness is never consistent, if one minute I’m dancing like I’ve had too much to drink and the next I’m hiding in my comfortable little turtle shell, but the only thing I’ve ever been consistent at is inconsistency. And loving people. So I’ll love you for your quirks if you love me for mine.





I’ve got this terrible idea

That you’re going to hurt me

Because love isn’t my strong suit

Despite my best efforts

And simply being enough

Isn’t as simple as it seems;

I’ve got a terrible idea

That you’re going to hurt me

Because that’s what falling in love does

Despite my best efforts

And the worst part is

I’m going to let you.



Bounty On My Head – Grizfolk 

7/17/17: Drama Queen

I feel everything. Deeply.

Have you ever felt so much that you can’t feel anything at all but you still somehow feel overwhelmed by all the too-much-ness you should be feeling? Maybe that’s the anxiety problem that I refused to face for twenty years rearing it’s head, or maybe I’m just dramatic.

I mean, when I realize another guy I could have fallen for will never love me the way I hoped and my first reaction is to tear skin apart from my bones, I’m just being a little dramatic, aren’t I? When I repeatedly ask “hello?” as I’m in my bedroom alone but know prayer isn’t a phone call and God doesn’t always answer me in ways I can comprehend, I sit motionless until my whole body goes numb because loneliness isn’t such a big deal when my own presence is lacking as well. I can chalk that up to a flair for the dramatic, right? When my hands feel empty and the callouses on them start to fade and my friends have other friends to attend to, I can feel my heart slow down and speed up and slow back down like it can’t decide if it wants to stay alive or not. But again, I’m just being dramatic.

What I can’t figure out is how people work in anything but extremes. How do their minds process life so easily? So simply? I’ve always hated the expression, “It is what it is,” but that’s only because I can’t figure out how to let things be and I don’t like that other people have.

See, if you give me a glass of wine I will want the whole bottle. I’ll beg you for it in my mind, motioning to it with my awakening eyes, please don’t make me ask for it but I will if I have to. Get so drunk with me that I forget who I am. Get me the kind of drunk where I believe I can fly, and even as I sit giggling wordlessly on your couch with tears falling from my bloodshot eyes, I’ll be content just knowing what I am capable of.

If you ever kiss me like I am somebody worthy of your time, I will douse your lips with the fire that’s been sitting dormant in my heart and I swear I won’t want to stop until the whole damn city has burned to the ground. Don’t kiss me if you can’t fall in love with me. Don’t wrap your fingers around mine because they’ll feel like snakes coiling themselves around each one and I know they’re venomous, but I kind of like the way a snakebite is a sharp sudden pain that slowly kills you and that might actually make me fall in love with you because doesn’t love do the same thing?

So please don’t pretend to fall in love with me if I’m not allowed to fall in love with you first. Don’t awaken a heart that only beats for the sound of people it can live in tandem with.

But that’s besides the point.

When you meet me, I will present to you a girl who is laid-back and sweet. I will tell you I love the sound of the ocean, but I won’t tell you it’s because to me it sounds like God’s heartbeat and I need to hear Him somehow before I fucking lose my mind. I will tell you that I am who I am and I don’t care much for what other people think of me, but that’s only because I know you’re going to be disappointed once I showcase what lies underneath my quiet exterior. I will tell you that I am easygoing because I swear I am, I swear I used to be, I swear if the time is right and I woke up to the sun shining and my clothes fit just right and I can sing in the car to my favorite songs before I get there, I’m so chill.

But don’t get me wrong, I don’t just feel the bad moments. Oh God, do I feel the good moments too. They aren’t usually the ones that are planned because those come along with too much pressure to be “good memories,” but when I’m surprised by a sudden “wow this is special,” man I feel every good thing a human can possibly feel both physically and emotionally and if there was some third option, I’d feel it that way too.

There was a time not long ago when my friend and I drove to the beach and we sang loudly in the car. I parked and she turned the radio up because we’d been waiting the whole ride there for one decent song to come on. There it appeared in those last few moments, not getting the chance to hear it if we’d gotten there a few seconds earlier; we reveled in it, taking advantage of that one chance to let go. She laughed when I forgot the words to the chorus because it went by too fast and I was too excited to keep up. I knew our whole friendship changed then, that we just crossed some sort of line into a world of real friendship and oh my gosh the possibilities were endless then. That was happiness. The transition from a good friend into somebody I don’t want to lose was what I’d been praying for for years and suddenly there it was like a gift from God had fallen right into my lap.

And even on a hot night in the middle of summer when a man made me promises that he’d quickly forgotten, he kissed me on the sand like he had been waiting for that moment all night and wow that was a good feeling I wouldn’t take back, because I’d only ever been kissed like it was a check on the list of things-you-do-when-you-like-someone and I swore I’d rather never let myself be kissed again if it was simply going to be something to do. I swore I would always be so much more than a woman with a decent enough set of qualities to keep a man company. I believed he actually meant that kiss and whether he did or not, it was enough to make the whole whirlwind of it worthwhile.

And there were all the little moments when I progressively let go of my childhood shyness for good and let it manifest itself in healthy and mature ways as I said screw it to my inhibitions about having fun at the cost of potential embarrassment. I went rollerblading with my friends and didn’t care about the teenagers sitting on the hill laughing as I barreled into the grass because I was too busy laughing at myself. I learned how to ride a horse because dammit I wanted to and I was tired of the fear that I’d carry  the stereotypical “horse girl” label my siblings would mock when we were growing up. I sang even though I was completely aware that I could be heard. I went to concerts and I jumped and moved my hips and flipped my hair when I felt the drums pounding in my chest because I was tired of standing there when I didn’t want to just stand there anymore.

And those moments, those little moments where life is happy and my heart feels so big it can barely stay in my chest, I stay alive for them. I feel such a broad spectrum of emotions, too many to let one take me out for good.